In Bedier’s translation of Tristan and Iseult: Tristan and Iseult are talking about the most beautiful places they can imagine, and they construct this fantasy of a castle that lays in perpetual twilight (which isn’t conventionally romantic, but the lovers could only meet then) with constant song and hundreds of candles in windows, but where they would never have to hide again, because no one would be able to enter to rip them apart.
“I think I need help," I heard myself whisper, voice little more than a rasp. "I think I'm lost."
I love the banter in the Charley Davidson series by Darynda Jones
In Bedier’s translation of Tristan and Iseult: Tristan and Iseult are talking about the most beautiful places they can imagine, and they construct this fantasy of a castle that lays in perpetual twilight (which isn’t conventionally romantic, but the lovers could only meet then) with constant song and hundreds of candles in windows, but where they would never have to hide again, because no one would be able to enter to rip them apart.